


Christmas Morning

by shadowcatisajerk



Series: Christmas Plans [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 07:06:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3348071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowcatisajerk/pseuds/shadowcatisajerk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil was woken up by sunlight streaming through his open blinds. He cursed his forgetfulness until he noticed the warm weight at his back and he remembered why he forgot to close the blinds. It was so much like his early morning fantasies, but then he heard another mumble coming from the far side of the bed and felt a solid kick to his left ankle. He knew this couldn't be a fantasy because never in his wildest dreams would be have imagined that Clint mumbled in his sleep, hogged the covers and had elbowed him at least three times. It was one of the worst night's sleep he'd had in years and it was absolutely perfect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Morning

**Author's Note:**

> This one's just porn. A continuation of my previous story, but the porn can be read as a stand-alone.

Phil was woken up by sunlight streaming through his open blinds. He cursed his forgetfulness until he noticed the warm weight at his back and he remembered why he forgot to close the blinds. It was so much like his early morning fantasies, but then he heard another mumble coming from the far side of the bed and felt a solid kick to his left ankle. He knew this couldn't be a fantasy because never in his wildest dreams would be have imagined that Clint mumbled in his sleep, hogged the covers and had elbowed him at least three times. It was one of the worst night's sleep he'd had in years and it was absolutely perfect.

  

   He decided that he would try going back to sleep, since it was Christmas morning and he had a guaranteed day off work, a perk from Nick for hosting the annual Christmas Eve party for all the members of Shield who didn’t have anyone to spend it with.  But first he had to take care of those damn blinds.  He tried to slip out of bed as silently as possible, but even as stealthy as he was, he was met with a hand snaking out from under the down comforter grabbing onto his elbow.

  

   “Don’t leave,” was the mumbled demand, barely heard underneath all those blankets.

 

   “I’m not going for long, just need to close the blinds.  The light is keeping me up. Go back to sleep.”  He patted the hand on his elbow until it let go and got up to both close the blinds and pull shut the black out curtains.  When you work as many nights and odd hours as he did, being able to make your bedroom pitch black was a priority.  Unfortunately, he forgot about his bladder when he shut the blinds and now had to make his way across to the bathroom in darkness.  He had been living here for years, and would have made it without any incident if only he’d remembered about Clint’s boots sitting near the door.  He had left them there last night when he’d changed clothes in Phil’s bedroom after Phil brought him to orgasm in the downstairs powder bath while their boss and all their co-workers fought over gifts in the basement.  He tried to stifle a grunt of pain as his big toe connected with the solid heel of Clint’s combat boots, which he had worn with his suit simply because he had no other shoes.  Oh, that suit.  Phil tried to remember where the rest of the suit had ended up last night.  Somewhere downstairs, to be sure, but exactly where was vague.  As he took care of business in the bathroom and snuggled back into the cocoon Clint had created in the bed, he let his thoughts drift back to last night as he slowly drifted back to sleep.

 

                          .................................................................................                                                          

 

     After Clint snuck out of the powder room and silently up the stairs to change, Phil had headed back downstairs to see how the gift exchange had turned out.  He claimed his bookstore gift card and Clint’s ugly Hanukah sweater back from Jasper who had been guarding them.  Well, just the gift card-no one in their right mind would ever want that sweater.  It turned out that Jasper had actually been the one to bring the sweater, a handmade gift from a great aunt on his dad’s side. When Phil expressed shock that Jasper would give away something handmade for him Jasper assured him that he had dozens more, all hideous and the wrong size and he had in fact just received another one from her this year.  Phil thought that his sweater might just end up in the box in the back of his closet where his treasured mementos ended up, though, because Clint stealing it from him had marked a turning point in their relationship.  Only someone who had deep feelings for him would give up a perfectly nice gift to steal this sweater in order to let Phil get a decent gift.  It had been the thing that made Phil take a chance and linger a little too long in Clint’s personal space, even if he had completely misread Clint’s reaction afterwards.

    

     Now that the gifts were all claimed and the food mostly eaten, people started to drift away. When Clint emerged down the stairs, Phil was in the kitchen helping to box up the leftovers for Maria to deliver to Shield tomorrow for those that had to work on Christmas Day. He had lost his shoes at some point and was wearing a pair of Phil’s gray dress slacks.  They were just close enough in color to the pants he’d had on before that most people wouldn’t take notice of the fact that they were a bit tight in the thighs and just a touch too short.  Melinda was not one of those people, however, super spy that she was, and she smirked at him as she helped him ladle food into containers.

 

     “Shut up,” he said, knocking into her with his shoulder.

 

     “I didn’t say a word,” she guilelessly replied, but her smirk had turned into a real grin.  Phil knew that Melinda was aware of his crush and had suspected that he might make a move at the party.  “I’m glad things worked out for you.”

 

     “Nothing’s worked out yet.  But maybe,” he said.

 

     “Well, good luck.  I’ll tell mom and dad that you definitely won’t be stopping by for Christmas dinner tomorrow night, right?”

 

     “Yeah, probably a good idea.  Thanks. I’ll either be busy or, more likely, drinking away my sorrows with all the leftover wine,” Phil replied with a chuckle.

 

     “Think positive thoughts, Phil,” she said as she gave him a kiss on the cheek and gathered up her dishes. 

 

     Phil finally ushered the last guest, a slightly drunk Lexie from the R&D department, into a cab and made his way back into his brownstone in search of Clint.  He panicked for a few minutes when he found the first floor empty, but then he heard glasses clanking from the basement.

 

     “Hey,” he said as he made his way downstairs, “you don’t have to do clean up.  I’ll take care of it tomorrow.” Then his brain promptly went offline as he cleared the landing and caught sight of Clint Barton’s ass, sticking up in the air in far too tight trousers that belonged to Phil-and that was a kink they’d have to revisit later- as he fished beer bottles from behind the end table.  “Gah,” was his far too intelligent response.

 

    “I don’t mind.  I didn’t want you to have to spend your whole Christmas day cleaning up after all of us,” he said as he straightened up and Phil noticed the almost full trash bag in his hands. 

 

     “Wow, you’ve been busy. It looks much better down here. Thank you.  But the rest can wait.  I think you and I have a date with a Christmas tree and the cashmere blanket from the back of my couch.”  He tried to put as much heat into his last statement as he could.  He’d been half hard in his jeans since their encounter in the powder room and had really hoped that none of his coworkers had noticed him sporting a semi while wishing them Merry Christmas as he hustled them out the door.  Now, that surprise view of Clint’s spectacular ass encased in his clothes had upped his semi into a raging hard on and he really needed to do something about it soon.  But then he noticed that Clint was staring at his shoes again, his knuckles white with the force of his grip on the trash bag he was holding. Phil forced his mind out of his pants for a moment.  “Hey, if you’ve changed your mind, we don’t have to…”

 

    “No,” he cried as his eyes flew up to meet Phil’s. “No, I want to do all those things you talked about.  I just don’t wanna to disappoint you.  You’re a classy guy and I’m kinda a slut and I just don’t know why you’d wanna do anything with me?” his voice got softer at the end and Phil had noticed that when he was nervous or upset that Clint’s speech seemed to lose some of the polish he had added since his recruitment.  This wouldn’t do at all.

 

     “Ok, I’ve already told you how I feel about the word stupid when you are referring to yourself, but the same goes for ‘slut’. There will be no shaming of yourself in my house, Clint.  If I didn’t want to be with you, then I wouldn’t.  But I do.  I’ve wanted that for an embarrassingly long time, longer even than we’ve been working together, if I’m completely truthful.  I’ve been kind of fascinated with you ever since Fury sent me to track you down.”  He continued talking as he made his way slowly towards Clint, hesitantly like Clint might spook and run off.  He wasn’t sure if that wasn’t the truth.

 

     “You are an amazing man, Clint.  I don’t know much about your past, I didn’t want to pry into it anymore than I already had when I was helping Fury, it didn’t seem right.  But I know you had some really shitty things happen to you and you rose above it every time.  You call yourself stupid, but your IQ tests put you in the top 25% of Shield, Clint, higher than me. I suspect even higher than Fury, but don’t tell anyone I told you that.  You’d have to be incredibly smart to do the things you do without any formal education since you were young.  I don’t know where you spent your childhood, but I did read that the last time you were in school was in junior high.  That doesn’t make you stupid, it makes the people in your life idiots, that they didn’t realize the gift they had in you and nurture it to its fullest potential.  You did that all on your own, Clint.  And now, if you really have no objection, I have realized I made a terrible mistake earlier in the powder room and I’d like to correct it.”

 

     “What do you mean a mistake?” Clint’s eyes widened and he paled.

 

     “No, I just meant that I never kissed you.  Can I, now?”

 

     “Shit, Phil, you never need to ask permission to do that,” he said with a grin.

 

     Phil leaned into Clint, slowly inching his way until their bodies were just almost touching but not, an echo of their earlier encounter.  Then he closed the distance and sealed their lips together.  The first touch was electric, and he immediately deepened the kiss, his tongue probing into Clint’s mouth, his hands winding around him to grab a fistful of that sinful purple shirt and the other burrowing into Clint’s hair.  For a moment, the sensations were so intense that he didn’t think he could register them all, and that wouldn’t do at all because he wanted this memory burned into his brain.  His fingers slid across the satiny material of the shirt at Clint’s waist as his other hand registered the slight crispiness of the gel on the tips of Clint’s hair and the downy softness beneath.  His lips registered the slightly chapped edges of Clint’s, his tongue delved into the heat of Clint’s mouth, smoothing across his teeth. He pulled their lips apart and worked his way down Clint’s jaw, his tongue feeling the slight stubble on his chin and the salty taste of the skin under his ear.  The hand around Clint’s waist tightened, pulling their hips together and, oh God, Clint was hard again.  It had been less than an hour, but he was already as hard as Phil was and that was at a dangerous level if he wanted this to last more than a couple of minutes.  He had plans, plans that did not include grinding into Clint until Phil was the one coming in his pants, so he reluctantly shifted his hands to Clint’s shoulders and put a tiny amount of distance between them. 

 

     Clint whined just a bit and surged forward again, pressing them together down the length of his deliciously hard body.  Phil distantly registered the sound of the trash bag Clint had been gripping hitting the floor and a glass bottle rolling across the tile floor, but that all flew out of his brain the moment Clint’s big hands slid around and gripped his ass.  He ground their hips together with enough force to take his breath away and Phil’s danger of coming in his pants went from possibility to probability in a flash. 

 

     He pushed on Clint’s shoulders again gently, putting just a bit of room between them. “Hey, Clint. Look at me.  As much as I am enjoying this, I have plans for tonight that don’t include me fucking you against the wall in my Rumpus Room, so let’s slow down a bit, ok?”

 

     “Rumpus Room?  What the hell is a Rumpus Room, Phil?” he asked incredulously. 

 

     “I have no idea, that’s just what my great aunt always called it.  She’s the one who left me this house.”

 

     “Huh, I wondered how you could afford such a great house so close to base.  I looked into getting an apartment after Bobbie, but everything I found was so expensive and so far from base, it was just easier to stay in the dorm. I think I’m about the only level 2 agent that lives there full time anymore, but I’ve never really had like a lease or anything before.  So why’d your aunt leave you a house?”

 

     “Great Aunt.  Aunt Mabel never had any kids of her own and she was a history professor, so I’d come over here to get away from my dad and we’d talk about American history.  She was a really cool lady.  She said this house and her Captain America trading cards were the only good things that she got out of her marriage to Uncle Felix.”

 

     “Captain America?”

 

     “Don’t make fun.  I never met Uncle Felix, but evidently he served with the Howling Commandos briefly during the war when his squadron helped them with a raid.  When he got home, she said he talked about Captain America all the time and started collecting everything he could find from his USO tour.  Their’s was not a happy marriage.  They met at a USO dance shortly before he shipped out and got married on a whim because everyone seemed to be doing it.  He made it through the war, but when he got back, they found out they had nothing in common.  But it was the 40’s and divorce wasn’t polite, so they toughed it out. Kids never happened, so Aunt Mabel went to school and got her degree and went back to working at the Museum where she’d worked before the war.  Uncle Felix worked himself into an early grave and she never remarried.”

 

     “I can understand finding yourself married to a total stranger,” Clint said with a grin. “It sucks, let me tell you.  And I wasn’t making fun of Captain America.  I used to read his comics sometimes when I was a kid. He was cool.  I think Bucky was my favorite, though.”

 

     “Please tell me you were reading the run from the early ‘80’s and not the ones from the ‘50’s.” Phil pushed back to look him in the eyes.  This was important. He needed to know what kind of man he was getting involved with.

 

     “I have no idea.  They were just whatever they had at the libraries we’d visit when we went into town.”

 

     “Ok, later we’ll go upstairs and I’ll show you the ones you need to read.  Please don’t ever read any of the ones from before 1963, promise me.”

 

     “Um, ok, I guess.  You really feel strongly about this stuff, don’t you?”

 

     “Captain America was probably the only thing that got me through middle school without going crazy.  I already told you that I came here to get away from my dad.  My reading comics about the war was the only thing we ever agreed on my entire childhood.”

 

     “You don’t have to tell me about shitty dads, believe me.” Clint was looking at his shoes again and Phil realized they’d gotten off track again.  That seemed to happen a lot with Clint; he was just so easy to talk to.

 

     “I don’t want to talk about our dads anymore, Clint.  Or about Captain America.  Right now, I’m more interested in getting the house locked up and seeing what your naked skin looks like with only the light of my Christmas tree shining on it.” He’d been inching closer again and whispered the last of the sentence in Clint’s ear, knowing how that affected him. He snaked out his tongue and licked delicately along the shell of Clint’s ear. 

 

    Clint actually did a full body shudder at that and tightened his grip on Phil’s ass.  “Yeah, I like that plan a lot. Let’s go.”

 

     They secured the house in no time flat and soon had all the lights switched off except the tree, which was nestled in a corner near the fireplace, it’s multicolored lights doing amazing things to Clint’s eyes.  Phil had never been able to nail down what color Clint’s eyes were.  Just when he’d decide they were green for sure, Clint would wear a light blue t-shirt and they’d turn aquamarine, then he’d wear navy and they’d turn grey.  He decided that he was going to have to spend a lot more time in close observation to make sure he knew every color combination. Before he came downstairs, he’d fashioned a pallet next to the tree from the expensive Cashmere throw that his mom had given him for Christmas a couple of years back and stoked up the fireplace. As he stood now in the firefight, he was faced with a very important decision.  Should he strip off all of Clint’s clothes right away and try to recreate the fantasy he’d told Clint about or should he take his time unpeeling Clint from his suit, tasting every inch of skin as it was revealed.  Clint solved that dilemma quickly by shucking off clothing left and right and plopping himself down on the blanket, his eyes twinkling in the lights. 

 

     “I seem to remember you saying you wanted to unwrap a present tonight?” he said with a grin, folding the edge of the blanket over himself. 

 

     “Yes, I do remember something like that,” he said, starting to kneel down.

 

     “No,” Clint stopped him, “you have to be naked too.  I’ve been fantasizing about what you have under those suits for too long, I get to see too.  Strip.”

 

     Phil knew he was blushing, but the thought of stripping down in front of this glorious specimen of humanity made him feel wholly inadequate.  He tried to figure out how to get undressed in a sexy way, but it wasn’t something he’d had practice at.  He wished for his suit so he could slowly loosen his tie and pop each button one by one, but he was stuck with a grey sweater and jeans, so he finally just settled with pulling it over his head without trying to make a show of it.  He shucked off his jeans and socks together and was left standing in his boxers before Clint, his cock tenting his boxers even now.  He finally looked up at Clint, hoping he wouldn’t see disappointment, to see Clint with a huge grin. 

 

     “Take those off and get over here.  I always suspected you had a huge cock and now I can see I was right.  I have to tell you a secret.  A couple of the juniors have a bar sighting alert for when you wear boxers at work.  If they get a look at your big cock making its presence known, they flip the sign in the break room upside down.”

 

     “Oh, god, you’re making that up.  That can’t be true.” Phil could feel the blood rushing to his face and his heart beat pounding in his ears.  He might never wear boxers again.

 

     “No, it’s 100 percent true.   It’s not very many, just a couple of the girls from last year’s training class and Sean from accounting.  They have lunch together and gossip and talk about what you are wearing that day.  They all have huge crushes on you.”

 

     “Do you gossip about me at lunch too?  How do you know this?”

 

     “No, I’m not in their group, Phil, but I’m still a spy. I see things, I listen, even with my shitty hearing, and it’s not hard to hear people talking about you.  I’ve been trained to learn things, important things.  Things like the fact that sometimes when you wear boxers, you can see your big cock in your suit pants.”

 

     “Oh my god, I can’t believe Sean from accounting talks about my dick.  He helped me with a tax problem last year.  He’s married, for god’s sake.  I met his husband at the 4th of July barbeque.  They told me all about their trip to Canada to get married 2 years ago. Why would he be talking about my dick?”

 

     “Evidently, you are on his “Pass List”.  He told Janeece that he and his husband each have 3 free passes if they ever get a chance to sleep with a celebrity.  He has you, Hugh Jackman and Derek Jeter on his list.  I’m not sure why he has Jeter on there, but there’s no accounting for taste.”

 

     “I’m not a celebrity.  Not even within Shield.  Fury is a celebrity, or Director Johnson. I’m just a level 5.”

 

     “Oh, trust me, Phil, you are a celebrity.  You are a legend in Shield.   All the juniors get taught in their 1st year about how you took down that drug cartel using nothing but your cell phone and a poodle.”

 

     “It was a Shih Tzu, and for a drug kingpin, that man had an unnatural attachment to his dog.  But that was nothing special; I was just doing my job.”

 

“And doing it so well, they use it for training on how to use available resources to get the job done. Talk to Maria Hill, she’s the one that teaches the class.”

     “Oh, don’t worry, I will be.”

 

     “Oh, shit, Phil, no don’t talk to her, because she’ll find out I’m the one that ratted her out and then she’ll have me reassigned to Siberia and I hate the cold.  You know she runs Assistant Director Fury’s office, don’t you?  He can’t even find his calendar, let alone tell you what’s on it.”

 

     “Don’t worry, Clint,” Phil said with a smile, “I won’t rat you out.  But I might need to exact a price for my silence.” He tried to make his voice sound sinister.  “We seem to have gotten off track again.  Why does that keep happening with you?”

 

     “I’m just easy to talk to, I guess.  It’s all part of being a world-class spy.  Now, Mr. Legend at Shield, take off those boxers and let me get a chance at a real bar-sighting.  I want to put my mouth on you.”

 

     “Oh, god,” Phil shuddered as he felt his dick pulse at that thought, already leaking all over his underwear.  “I’ll give you something to keep your mouth occupied.”

 

     All thoughts of finesse and slowly unwrapping Clint flew out the window as Phil shucked off his boxers and dove onto Clint.  Clint didn’t even get a chance to grunt from the weight that was suddenly pinning him to the ground because Phil attached his mouth to Clint’s and kissed him like his life depended on it.  Suddenly there was skin everywhere, miles and miles of naked archer to explore and he wanted to taste it all.  He felt as if his life depended on it right at that moment. 

 

     “Oh, god, Phil, you’re going to make me come again if you keep grinding on me like that.”

 

     “No, Clint, you aren’t going to come from that.  You are going to wait until I tell you to come.  You are going to wait for me to give you permission to come while my fingers fuck your ass.  Remember?” Phil felt light headed with power.  With knowing that Clint was going to lie there and let him do whatever he wanted to him.  “Don’t you want that?”

 

    “Oh, shit, yeah.  Yeah I do.  I promise I’ll wait for you, but you gotta quit grinding your big dick against mine, ok?  I’m only human, ok?”  Clint was panting now.

 

     “Ok,” Phil said, moving his lower body away, making Clint whine even though he was doing as he asked.  “But I seem to remember something about wanting to see how sensitive your nipples are,” he murmured as he latched onto one of them with his teeth.

 

         “Guh,” was Clint’s response and Phil wanted to congratulate himself on being right.  But he was too busy sucking on Clint’s chest to brag about it.  He worked the tip of his tongue over each nipple quickly, making them pebble up. Then he bit each one gently, soothing it after with the flat of his tongue.  He desperately wanted to get his mouth on Clint’s cock, but he had promised him something else, so he pulled away just long enough to flip Clint over onto his stomach. 

 

     “Wow, this is even better than I imagined it.”

 

     “Wah?” Clint’s voice was muffled from where it was pressed against the Cashmere blanket.  Phil didn’t even realize he’d said that out loud.

 

     “I knew your ass was going to be amazing, but this?  This is a work of art.”

 

     “You’re really cheesy when you’re horny, Coulson, you know that?”

 

     “Shut up, Clint, or I’m not going to rim you until you can’t see straight.”

 

     “Oh, ok, shutting up now.” Clint turned his face to look up at Phil’s and his smile let Phil know that he was on board with all of it. 

 

     He had dreamed of this, Clint’s ass laid out in front of him to do what he wanted.  It was perfect, round and muscular, twin dimples on his lower back framing the graceful curves.  He settled his hands on each of those globes and pulled them apart to expose his tight hole.  He wasn’t waxed, thank god.  The age difference was enough to make Phil nervous as it was, so seeing a hairless ass would have weirded Phil out.  And he didn’t mind a little body hair; he just wanted to get his lips on that ass as soon as possible.  He laid the flat of his tongue at the top of Clint’s crack and licked a stripe downward, past his hole to the base of his balls, where he snaked out the tip of his tongue to give them a quick lick.  The grunt coming from Clint let him know he was on the right track.  He circled his tongue around the tight ring of muscle and probed inside just a little.  Clint’s grunt of approval encouraged him to keep going.  He alternated probing inside with his tongue and licking around the outside until his hole finally started to loosen up.  He might call himself a slut, but Clint was really tight.

 

     “How long’s it been since someone rimmed you?  You’re so tight,” he asked.

 

     “Rimmed me, uh, well, I guess it’s been about, well, never.”

 

     “What? Never?  How is that possible?”

 

     “I don’t know, just never, you know, came up, I guess,” he finished with a mumble into the blanket.  Oh, no, he’d embarrassed him again.

 

     “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry; I just can’t believe that no one you’ve slept with wanted to get their mouth on you.  Your ass is just, well, it’s perfect. How long has it been since you’ve been fucked?  Do I need to take this slower?”

 

     “It hasn’t been that long, I guess.  Just, well, most of the time, the people I’m with just want a quick fuck and then they head out.”

 

     “That ends now.  I’m going to take my time with you, Clint.”

 

     “That’s great, Phil, but if you keep doing that thing with your tongue, there’s no way I’m not going to make a mess all over this expensive blanket you have here.  Get your fingers in me, please?”

 

     “Patience, Clint.  You’re a sniper, haven’t you learned patience yet?”

 

     “Not when you keep doing that.  I didn’t even know tongues could bend that way,” his voice was still muffled by the blanket his face was pressed into and Phil was aching to see his cock again.  He’d barely gotten a glimpse before.  So he finished up with one more long lick and a quick dip inside, which had Clint grunting again, and then reached around to flip him onto his back. 

 

     Now, that was more like it.  Clint’s cock was so hard it was standing away from his body.  It was flushed red and the slit was leaking everywhere.  He desperately wanted to lick that drip of pre-come off the tip, but he’d made Clint a promise earlier that he intended to keep.  He reached for the lube and coated his fingers liberally. 

 

     “Tell me if any of this is too much, ok?”

 

     “Just get on with it, Phil.  I feel like I’m about to explode here,” he whined. 

 

     Phil started out with just one finger, circling his rim.  It was already nicely relaxed from his mouth earlier, so he eased that finger in slowly all the way to the third knuckle.  Clint made a noise like the air had been knocked out of him. 

 

     “OK?” he asked.

 

     “Yes, god, Phil, quit asking, I’m so, so good.  Keep going, please, before I die.”

 

     Phil decided it was time to get this show on the road.  He pulled out his finger and leaned over close to Clint.  He snaked out his tongue to lick across the shell of Clint’s ear as he buried two fingers in his hole at the same time.  Clint yelled this time, but Phil didn’t ask if he was ok.  Instead he started to slowly fuck him with his fingers, curling them every few thrusts to rub gently against the ball of nerves inside.  While he did that, he started whispering in Clint’s ear, telling him all the filthy things he wanted to do to Clint.  How perfect his ass was, how good he tasted and how he couldn’t wait to get his mouth on his cock.  He started to describe what he as going to do when he got his mouth on his cock for the first time while he pulled out to add another finger.  Clint was grunting with each thrust of his fingers now.  Phil’d started out with his fingers pressed together, but as he described how he was going to deep throat Clint the first time he gave him a blow job, how he was going to suck him until Clint came down his throat, he spread out those three fingers and pressed as deep as he could go.  When he felt the muscles relax at last, he decided he needed to do more, so he started describing how good it was going to feel when he fucked Clint for the first time as he pulled out and inserted four fingers this time.  He told Clint how he was going to fuck him under the tree first, then in bed, then in the morning, he was going to bend him over the kitchen island and take him while he drank his coffee. 

 

     Clint was shaking by this time.  His hole was taking Phil’s fingers easily and he made sure to brush against his prostate with each thrust.  His lips were brushing against Clint’s ear with each word and he would snake his tongue out to lick from time to time. 

 

     “Oh, god, Phil, I can’t, I can’t do it anymore, please.  Please you have to let me come.”

 

     “That’s all I was waiting for Clint.  I just wanted you to ask me nicely.”

 

     He pulled his fingers almost all the way out and then with one more hard thrust, he pressed against his prostate and whispered “Come”.

 

     Clint shot off like a rocket, thick strands of white shooting onto his chest, all over Phil’s arm, onto the blanket below them.  Phil didn’t stop fucking him with his fingers, milking him of every drop.  He was still shaking, shuttering with every shot.  It seemed like he was going to keep going forever, but he finally finished with a shiver.  Phil didn’t remove his fingers, but he stopped moving.  He slowly eased his fingers out, gently in case he was too sensitive.  Taking them all the way out of Clint’s body felt like a loss, like something was missing now.  Clint must have felt the same because he groaned when Phil’s fingers were all the way out. 

 

         Suddenly, Phil realized that he had been so focused on Clint’s reactions that he hadn’t realized how desperately he needed to come himself.  His dick was rubbing frantically against the blanket, trying to get enough friction.  He took the fingers that still had lube on them and moved to jack himself off, but Clint grabbed his hand.

 

     “Nope, don’t you dare.  It’s my turn.  If no one touches my ass but you, then nothing but me touches your dick either.” 

 

     He pushed Phil down until he was on his back and then leaned down to lick a stripe up Phil’s cock.  He was still covered in his own come and getting the mess everywhere.  Phil distantly thought that there was no way he was ever going to be able to clean his Cashmere throw, but then Clint’s nose brushed the hair at the base of Phil’s cock and the head hit the back of Clint’s throat and there was no room for any other thoughts in Phil’s head except heat and suction and oh, god, that’s good.  He finished embarrassingly quickly, coming down Clint’s throat with a shout. 

 

     Clint licked him clean and then collapsed on his back so they were laying side by side, both panting like they’d just run a race.

 

     “That was….” Phil’s brain had been sucked out through his dick.  All the words were gone.

 

     “I agree, 100%.” Clint said, the smirk evident even through his panting. 

 

     “Wow.”  Phil had a world class vocabulary, but that was the only word that came into his head.  Just “Wow.”

 

     “Just think what it’s going to be like the first time we fuck.”  Phil could hear the grin in Clint’s voice.  His spend cock actually twitched at the thought, valiantly trying to rise to the occasion.

 

     “I’m almost scared to find out, based on our first encounter.”  He finally had enough feeling back in his fingers that he made an effort to reach for Clint.  He managed to grab his hip.  “C'mere.”  So eloquent.

 

     “Not sure I can move, you c'mere.”

 

     “No, you sucked my brain out through my dick; my higher level functions are gone.  I think I’m just going to lie here for a couple of years.” Phil knew he needed to get up and do something.  Come was smeared all over both of them and it was starting to dry and stick things together that would be painful later on.  He needed to get them both up and into the shower.  Suddenly the thought of Clint, in his shower, soapy with his shower gel, was just enough to get his muscles working again. 

 

     “Come on, it’s time for a shower.  Then, if you’d like, I think it’s time we moved this to an actual bed.  We’ll have to do the fucking under the tree thing tomorrow.”

 

     “I thought tomorrow was you bending me over your kitchen island.”

 

     “That’s for in the morning.  Me rimming you again under the tree is for lunch time.  Then tomorrow night, I want you to fuck me into that couch over there.  How does that all sound?”

 

     Clint’s cock had started to get hard again as Phil talked to him.  Ah, to be twenty-three again.  “That all sounds really, really good.  You have the best plans, sir.”

 

     Phil’s dick twitched again at Clint calling him sir while naked and covered in come.  Oh, yes, that was a kink they were definitely going to have to explore.  Maybe for New Years. He’d have to make a new plan.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Credit for the Bar Sighting idea came from Clarkus-girlus’ wonderful Tumblr blog.


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